Until My Last Breath
by SulfurHeart
Summary: I was never meant for love...so it isn't surprising that when I finally found it, it didn't last.
1. Chapter 1

It is a strange feeling to hear someone speak so bluntly to me. Cheripha... that reddish-brown-haired beauty... had been the first person ever to tell me that she was staying with me no matter what. I could not exactly put my finger on it, but I suppose it's because she lost her father after such a short time of them reuniting. The life of an assassin must've taken its toll on the young woman, but if it did, she hid it well underneath that smug grin of hers. Her willingness to charge straight into the heat of battle is admirable, yet I have ha to tell her multiple times she's acting rashly.

"Don't flatter yourself. You're as lily-livered as the next maiden! You could not move forward without my help, Wyl," Cheripha smiled pompously before moving forward into the middle of the battle, leaving me relatively speechless. The only words that ever left my lips after those declarations was "Godspeed." If she heard me, she's turn around and smile brightly, if she didn't, she'd just continue on her way to defeat the enemy. I was convinced that her spirit would save her from anything. Even that blackness...

* * *

"Whew! That was close... We just made it! How do you like THAT, you brainless toads?!" Cheripha exclaimed brightly, nudging a corpse with her foot roughly. I decided then that she'd spent too much time around Gwendal. Breathing the same oxygen as he did seemed to be enough to allow someone to catch his foul personality. The only up-side to the older male was his will to live. I could never bring myself to use him for Mistress Hel's benefit. Rolling my blue eyes, I allowed my attention back to the excitable lass to my right, who was flailing an arrow around in jest at Gwendal. I smiled gently and stated quietly,

"Careful lass, you'll poke someone's eye out if you continue to do that," I offered Cheripha one of my increasingly rarer smiles before sheathing my sword.

"Let the girl have her fun," Lieselotte commented coolly, her staff laid out across her lap as she sat upon a rock. "There is nothing sweeter than the taste of victory." Liese licked her lips in jest before turning cold yet fiery eyes back to the scene of Cheripha and Gwendal.

"Aye, ye lily-livered mongrel, the lass just wants to have herself a grand ol' time before we hit the road again."

I stared at Gwendal before sighing lightly. I remembered how kind Gwendal had been when Ancel and I trained with him and Heugoe. Of course he had still been harsh, but his comments had made everyone chuckle, and helped lighten the mood as we went through our very first lesson. But come to think of it, that was the reason for the pain I suffer in silence now. And how I lost my best friend, and I'll never know if there is any possibility that I could ever see him again. And poor Tilte, obviously in love with that redhead... and it took me so long to be able to tell her the real reason why Ancel never traveled home with me. What had happened because of that first training had turned my life upside-down. And now a ghostly "maid" of sorts follows me around. Admittedly I'd much rather deal with Ailyth as opposed to the queen of the underworld, Mistress Hel. And her dog, which she threatened me with when we first made our covenant. I clenched my fists and turned away from the group of four, feeling the eyes of Cheripha and the strangely girlish Darius on my back. My footsteps fell lightly against the grass that was just beginning to show signs of frost, signaling to the world that winter was going to make its rounds again. However, I didn't care; besides the fact that my father had been taken on the first snowfall of that yet, winter's chill did not faze me like it did to most other people. I stopped my miniature plight when I reached the edge of a small cliff, peering over it and eyeing the peaceful flow of the river just underneath it.

"Wyl?"

I turned my head, looking over my shoulder to see who has followed me; but the sound of her voice had already given away her identity. "Cheripha," I breathed softly, turning my head to look in front of me once again, "Why did you follow me?"

"...You held that look in your eyes again. You seem so vacant when you stare at Gwendal nowadays. He has noticed it himself. What did he do?"

I remained quiet for a moment, contemplating my reply, before continuing, "Did he send you to get this information from me? If so, leave and tell him he is a coward for not speaking to my face."

"Yes and no," Cheripha said, her voice less sure of herself than it usually was, and I turned to look at her when she continued, "I myself am curious. What happened to you that you place blame on Gwendal for? Sure, he could watch his tongue a bit more, but he isn't a bad man, Wyl..."

I shrugged softly, my father's sword clinking softly against its sheath that rested against my shoulder, bringing back yet more memories of people I could not save... People I failed to save. And I had failed miserably, too. I had accepted Mistress Hel's covenant on the grounds that I would spill the blood of those who are close to me. I sacrificed Ancel. I sacrificed Lockswell. Was it not only fitting that I shed his daughter's blood? Gwendal's? Lieselotte's? My silence must have concerned the light-brown haired young woman more, for she pulled me back to reality with a gentle touch to my shoulder.

"Wyl, what happened?" her voice was unusually soft, concerned...much lovelier than when she shouted vulgar insults to her enemies on the battlefield. How could one woman have two incredibly different sides? She's only a year younger than myself, yet both of her personalities were so mature. Surely being an assassin matured her too quickly.

"I didn't do it," I whispered, repeating the words I'd said to Heugoe, "I didn't kill him!"

Cheripha looked confused; I didn't have to turn blue orbs to her to tell. "Wyl I did not accuse you of killing anyone..."

I chuckled grimly, a saddened smile plastering itself to my lips, "I didn't do it... It wasn't me. If I hadn't gone to training with Gwendal and Heugoe, Ancel would still be alive. But I did NOT kill him!"

"You're speaking like a madman, Wyl... Please explain to me: who is Ancel? Who is Heugoe? What hap-"

"Enough."

I turned watery eyes to see the newest arrival, grimacing when I saw who it was. Though Gwendal did not meet my gaze, nor show any signs that he intended to. His stare was intently fixed on the young lady at my side.

"Cheripha, let him alone. Come back with me and let us begin to pack up with Lieselotte for our upcoming travels."

My gaze stayed on Gwendal, even when I felt Cheripha search for my attention, before the young woman turned and left. Gwendal turned, finally giving me one look. And I didn't like what it said.

* * *

Another iPhone story! Only this time it ain't a oneshot! :P Stay in tune for the next chapter!


	2. Chapter 2

As they walked along, Wylfred's inherited sword seemed to add more weight to him with each step. The sheath swung uneasily on his back, only adding onto the unapproachable air that hung around Wyl like a cloud. The young male hadn't had a single attempt made on him for much-needed conversation. Even Cheripha had seemed to give up on the gloomy teenager. Wyl now felt bad for being so vague to the young woman, and making himself sound like an absolute lunatic. He knew it was wrong to blame Gwendal for something he didn't do, but Wyl's heart was truly gone. The teenager suddenly slowed, but his lack of movement went unnoticed by the others, who were already a good way in front of him. They seemed to be forgetting his presence. How fitting. However, for whatever reason, Cheripha glanced over her shoulder only to stop herself and turn around completely. Her eyes bore light into his dark soul, and it made Wylfred uncomfortable.

"Wyl?" Cheripha questioned, staring intently at the older male, her eyes speaking unspoken questions. She was seeking answers desperately, and Wyl knew he couldn't keep the truth from her much longer. How come Wyl only felt guilty for not telling Tilte about Ancel, but when it came to any other person, he was willing to keep them in the dark and not share the secret of Mistress Hel with any of them. Suddenly a soft yet nonexistent hand brushed against Wyl's shoulder, startling him. He looked to his right, out of the corner of his eye, identified the maiden who had since become his personal assistant of sorts.

"It's not wise if you told her about what you do, Master. She would know the cause of her death when it comes down to it."

Wyl remained silent, eyes turned back to an inquisitive Cheripha, so Ailyth continued in a softer tone, "...You have fallen in love with her, have you not, Master?"

"Yes," Wyl whispered, closing his eyes and hanging his head. In a few moments, he felt arms around his waist, and the young man opened troubled crystal orbs to see who had embraced him so suddenly. When he saw who it was, his heart clenched bitterly.

"You said yes? Will you tell me now?" Cheripha asked quietly.

Wyl didn't consider long before nodding his head and taking the hand of the younger female and leading her away from the others so that they could seek freely...and in private.

* * *

"I made an path I regret making," Wyl started, as he stood on the edge of a tiny cliff, that was more like a large hill that was cut off abruptly. When the word 'regret' parted from his lips, he saw Ailyth appear with that glint in her eye.

"Regret?" Cheripha asked, drawing the light-haired male's attention back to her.

"No, not regret," Wyl said, carefully restating his deceleration, "I made an oath that will leave very alone. But I no longer care. I am doing what I must to achieve my own goal."

"What are you trying to achieve?"

"I am going to slay the 'Chooser of the Slain,' and lay her broken wings t the feet of Mistress Hel," Wyl recited, continuing before Cheripha could get anything in, "This pact made me take the life of my best friend. He was named Ancel. Of course I didn't mean to kill him, but I was being guided by Mistress Hel, and she taught me how to use the Plume. And it doesn't stop at Ancel. I have taken the life of one other and stained my plume with sin."

"You mean...?"

"Perhaps it is not fair to grant one superhuman power for one battle in exchange for their life, but rarely do they notice. Only the most observant of men will notice the change. But all in all, I decide the fate of my companions. And in the end, it will be only I left to defeat the Death Goddess." Wyl hazarded a glance at Cheripha, and the look he revived was anything but unexpected. She had a look of horror spread across her facial features, and she seemed suddenly tense as she was hit with reality, full-force. But Wyl felt no better after telling her this like he'd hoped to. Ailyth still stood invisibly in the background, her face betraying nary a shard of emotion.

"So, Gwendal and Lieselotte and I are just your pawns?!"

"Yes."

"We trusted you! How could you do this to us?! To ME?! You took my father from me! Why didn't you tell me earlier?!"

"My feelings got in the way," Wyl stated flatly.

"Feelings? Feelings?! How can a man like you have feelings?!"

"I don't. Not for anyone else. It's...just you," Wyl sighed, "I didn't tell you because I didn't want you to hate me for taking your father. But now you feel half of my pain. At least your father wasn't taken by the Valkyrie."

Cheripha threw her arms by her side and stared daggers at her traveling companion. Well, he had been right. Telling her had unleashed the dragon within her. The dragon of hatred and anger and despair. Three emotions that should ever be paired together no matter the circumstance. Suddenly Cheripha turned on her heel and ran off. In the corner, Ailyth resumed her 'human' form.

"You've gotten your heart broken, haven't you, Master?"

Wyl took a moment before answering, yet his eyes remained glued to the spot where Cheripha had just been, "Yes."

"She'll inform the others."

"See to it that she doesn't."

Ailyth nodded, "Whatever you wish, Master. I will do anything that helps Mistress Hel's cause."

Wyl nodded silently before closing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose in agitation. He loved her but now how only course of action was to kill her. How much could Ailyth do to prevent the others from being told? However, Wyl's usual cold façade took over and he headed back to where the others surely awaited him, so they could continue to their next battle. But this time it was going to be different.

* * *

:P hey y'all! My thumbs are sore from being cracked multiple times while I typed this up on my handy dandy iPhone! I promise I'll try to make upcoming chapters more enjoyable. Until then, please hang in there with me!

:3 no angry mobs please? Obedient children will be rewarded with milkshakes and fries!


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